


"Scarves"

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas Ficlets, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Scarves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:30:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5397794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>part of the deancas christmas minibang that i'm doing on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Scarves"

**Author's Note:**

> may the lord forgive me for i have sinned

            _There he goes again,_ Dean thinks bitterly as he sees Castiel walk out of the lecture hall, _looking all perfect and everything, with that stupid messy dark hair, and stupid trench coat._ He’s been trying to work up the courage to talk to Castiel, he really has, but this is about the 10 th time he’s let Castiel slip away, making just one excuse or another. Dean simply wraps his scarf tightly around his neck and stalks off to his dorm. He doesn’t have theology tomorrow, so at least he doesn’t have to think about his failed romantic exploits for another day. Even as he does his homework that night, he ponders why he has to read about angels, considering that he sees one in class every other day.

            Dean doesn’t end up getting a reprieve from Castiel, however, as he ends up running into the guy while walking towards the dining hall. Castiel’s cheeks are red with the cold and Dean notices he’s only wearing a thin shirt. Dean wants to ask him if he’s warm enough or needs help, but being Dean this is how he calls to Cas from across the path

            “Man, what the hell are you doing?”

            “What?” As Castiel gives him a confused and terrified look, Dean realizes that he’s fucked up. He desperately tries to think of a solution and ends up just ripping his scarf from his neck. He marches over the Castiel, who still looks rather frightened, and firmly wraps the scarf around Castiel’s neck.

            “You can’t be walking around dressed like that,” Dean says, his thoughts finally becoming somewhat coherent again. “You’ll freeze.” Castiel looks down at his newly acquired accessory.

            “Thank you?”

            “Don’t mention it,” Dean mumbles as he walks away hurriedly, mortified. Dean’s so busy trying to escape the scene that he doesn’t see Castiel blushing furiously as he tightens the scarf slightly, grateful for its warmth.

            Dean is more than happy to forget his failed first conversation with Castiel, but alas this is not what the universe has in store for him. As he goes to take a seat in theology, this time at the very back of the room to preserve his tattered dignity, he is approached by a certain, blue-eyed student carrying a scarf.

            “Hello, Dean.” Castiel says as Dean struggles to put words together.

            “Youknowmyname?” Dean ends up blurting out. He has to resist the urge to clamp his hand over his mouth in embarrassment. Castiel cocks his head to one side.

            “Of course I do,” Castiel replies “you were the brilliant teaching assistant for the Mrs. Mill’s pre-requisite course over the summer.” Dean blushes and tries to brush off Castiel’s comment.

            “It was nothing.” It wasn’t really nothing though. Dean had worked his ass off to get all the necessary materials and a recommendation from Mr. Singer to even be considered for the position. The extra credit certainly wasn’t bad, but it had also been the first time Dean had noticed Castiel and began to question larger things about his sexuality, the universe, and the blueness of Castiel’s eyes. But yes, nothing.

            “Anyway,” Castiel continues, “I’d like to return your scarf.” Dean opens and closes his mouth wordlessly. “I mean, won’t you be cold as well?”

            “Just keep it.” Dean says, making a vague hand gesture. “It’s no big deal.” Castiel looks at him with concern.

            “Dean this is lovely scarf I couldn’t ju—”

            “Keep it,” Dean urges, “Or I swear to god Cas I’ll—” Dean stops suddenly, both because he didn’t know where he was going with his sentence but also because he realizes that he’s given his secret crush a nickname mid-sentence. Upon their second real conversation. Dean chews his lip and suddenly becomes very invested in pulling his theology textbook out of his bag.

            “Only if you insist.” Castiel replies before walking away. As Cas retreats back to his seat, Dean curses his own stupidity, and vows to never talk to Castiel again. He suffers through the rest of the lecture in silence and rushes out of the room as soon as class ends, grateful that they don’t have class together until Monday. And so he doesn’t notice Cas trying to get his attention in order to thank him properly.

            _Castiel lives to make me squirm_ , Dean decides as he sits in class a few days later. The minute Cas walks in he takes a seat just a row down from Dean. He also immediately sheds his trench coat, exposing a thin white t-shirt and the most gorgeous back muscles Dean’s ever seen. Cas then takes off Dean’s scarf, and Dean can just imagine the hickies he would leave on Castiel’s neck. How he would just run his fingers over that one vein and th—Dean’s so wrapped in his fantasies that he barely registers when class starts and rushes to take out his laptop. He does take notes, but they’re fragmented and scattered, sentences ending and beginning within misspelled words and phrases as he takes occasional breaks to ogle at Castiel. During one such of these “breaks”, Dean notices Castiel making strange motions with his hands. _Is he jerking off,_ Dean wonders. As much as Dean’d like to deny it, or deny the images going through his head, Castiel appears to making unmistakable, stroking motions in his lap. People around Castiel begin to notice too, and eventually even the teacher begins craning her neck for a better look.

            “Mr. Novak,” Professor Mills says, with the barest trace of judgment in her voice “what _exactly_ are you doing?” Now everyone in the lecture hall is looking at Castiel, and Dean feels a sudden protective instinct come over him. He pushes the thought away, and looks expectantly at Cas like the other students. Castiel, simply shrugs and puts his hands on his desk.

            “Yarn?” Dean murmurs aloud, his words dotted with relief and disbelief. But sure enough, a large bundle of yarn as well as some crocheting needles lie on the desk in front of Castiel. Some students laugh, while the professor struggles to regain her composure. She eventually continues the lesson, but only after telling Castiel he needs to stay after class to discuss “inappropriate yarn usage”. And as Professor Mills returns to the land of angels and demons, Dean looks down at Castiel’s desk once more and realizes that Cas was crocheting a scarf.

            Dean stays after class this time, until all the other students have filed out of the hall, leaving empty redbull cans in their wake. He approaches Castiel, post-yarn discussion, with firm intent but, as always, his words fail him as soon as the conversation begins.

            “That was an interesting class.” Cas says mildly as he packs up his things.

            “Mmm.” Dean replies intelligently.

            “I was hoping to finish crocheting that scarf by the end of the period but I guess—”

            “Who’s the scarf for?” Dean asks abruptly, suddenly less sure of himself. Castiel gives Dean an exasperated look.

            “Isn’t it obvious?” Cas lets out a frustrated huff at Dean’s lack of comprehension. “It’s to replace the scarf you gave me?” And with those words Dean feels warmth bubbling in his chest, and suddenly all mental filters have gone out the window.

            “But I mean I already told you there’s no need Cas I mean really it’s worth it just to see you wearing it, it looks good on you—”

            “Dean,” Cas starts, but Dean continues to ramble on, the metaphorical train having left the station continuing to chug on full steam ahead.

            “ and I mean you never wear enough layers and just wanna keep you warm, I mean not hot like, you’re already hot and—”

            “Dean,” Cas says more firmly, grabbing Dean’s shoulder, “I just wanted to thank you.” Cas looks down nervously, then reasserts himself, and presses a quick kiss to Dean’s cheek. Cas lets go of Dean and blushes furiously, while Dean touches his cheek with an awe-filled expression on his face.

            “Man, kissing me before the first date, Cas,” Dean says, “I didn’t know you were that kind of guy,” Dean smiles as Castiel laughs, shattering the bloated silence of the lecture hall.

            “Maybe I should take you out for coffee then, _Dean_.”

            “I think that would be a good idea, _Cas_.” Dean can’t help the stupid grin that creeps up his face as Castiel slings his bag over his shoulder and they walk out of the hall together. He certainly can’t help the way his pulse races when Castiel holds his hand on the way to the coffee shop. And he definitely can’t help the way that, when they return to Dean’s dorm, that they find other ways to keep warm without scarves.                   


End file.
